Velocity
by Asylum Survivor
Summary: When Maximum Ride gets reaped, the whole Games change. Every single thing. That's because she and her fellow tributes have wings. R&R! T to M for language and gore!
1. Chapter 1

**Me: HI GUYS! So... this is the first chapter of Velocity, my super mega epic mash-up of Hunger Games and Maximum Ride! But the list of tribs isn't filled yet. I NEED TWO MORE!**

**Iggy: R&R!**

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><p>"Maximum...Ride." Effie Trinket rolls out. Her plain, boring dress does not match her high-pitched voice. She smiles at the cameras stationed all over the square, perched on top of buildings, hiding to get the best shot like snipers.<p>

She didn't need to pause at my last time because there are no Maximums other than me in the entire area of District 6.

I know this was going to happen from the moment I set foot in the square. I am prepared to face imminent death.

I take a deep breath and steadily lurch myself forward towards the stage. I grit my teeth.

"Guess the tesserae really paid off." I mutter under my breath as I trudge along.

"Congratulations, Maximum Ride. You are now officially in the Hunger Games." Effie grins at me like the Cheshire cat from _Alice's Adventures in Wonderland_.

I stand in the center of the stage, for the whole world to see me. I want to hide in the shadows, cower, and cry for myself, my mother, my sister, my little brother, and my baby sister. Effie straightens her cake yellow wig and wiggles her fingers before reaching into the glass fishbowl-like container filled with slips of paper that have the names of the boys from District 6 written on them.

My hands fly to my side-braid draped simply over my shoulder, trailing gently past the top half of my torso. I clutch it in fear of the next name. What if it is my little brother, Gazzy? Oh, God, it's only his first year! He can't be picked already.

Effie swirls her fingers in the bowl. She looks at me, then looks at the cameras again.

She grabs the nearest slip of paper and pulls it out. She unfolds it slowly. She opens her mouth to speak.

"This year's male tribute is... Ignatius Griffiths."

Relief washes me over like a hot bath. I watch in shock as Ignatius stumbles through the crowd, half-drunk. The crowds, of course, give him wide berth.

He ascends onto the stage noisily, but gracefully. He snatches the scrap of paper from Effie's hand. She lets out a surprised sound. He mutters incoherent strings of obscenities while reading his name. After he rereads his name about thirty more times, he flings the tiny vellum at me and I scramble to catch it. He doesn't acknowledge me, but he stands beside me.

I take a look at him; his blond hair shaggy and unkempt, his cold soulless chocolate eyes. He catches me staring at him and glares at me. I quickly turn away, embarrassed.

"We're sitting ducks." He mutters to no one in particular.

Neither of us talks for the rest of the time we have on stage. The Mayor goes on rambling about the history of the Games and the Capitol.

Once his speech is over, a herd of Peacekeepers usher us into the Justice building and stuff us into a tiny room. Ignatius is lead by some of the Peacekeepers into an adjacent room. Once everyone leaves, I can finally rest in peace. I seat myself in a plushy chair and run my hands up and down the armrests, nervously. A small tap at the door forces me to get up and unlock it. As I return to my seat, I see my family. It consists of my mother **(A/N: Dr. M!)**, my little sister, Ella who just turned 15, my little brother Gazzy, who is 12, and the baby, Teddy.

Teddy is clinging to my mother, her tiny hands gripping her like a vise. Teddy reaches her arms out, wanting to be with me. Mother peels her off and hands her to me. Ella creeps up and hugs me, her tears dotting the shoulder of my dress.

"You'll take care of everyone?" I ask, tears threatening to spill over. It is a lot of responsibility to put on a fifteen-year-old's shoulders, but I know she can handle it.

Ella nods her head, her black hair quivering with her. Gazzy tries hard not to cry, but fails and buries himself into my mother.

So all of us, my mother, my siblings, and I, my family, sit in silence, crying and weeping for my safety, my survival.

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><p><strong>IGGY<strong>

The first thing I notice when I enter into the train is that it's cramped. Too cramped. The girl agrees, too.

"It's stuffy." She ponders. I look at her, and see that her eyes are red and puffy. There are also dried salt stains on her cheeks, making little thin trails.

"Oh, you'll get used to it." Effie Trinket rushes past us. She shoves the girl into her chamber car and shows me where to find mine.

When I get to my room, there is a downy bed, big enough to fit three people, a chest of drawers, and a large bathroom. The first thing I do is collapse onto the bed, back first. I haven't gotten into my pajamas or even crawled into the sheets when I finally fall asleep.

When I wake up, it's past late afternoon; the sun is finally sinking in, turning the sky into the color of the ocean during a storm. Effie is hammering at the door and I struggle to get up. When I do, I open the first drawer and grab a pile of clothes from the top and throw them on. Apparently, I ended up grabbing a gray t-shirt and black pajama pants. I tug on some fuzzy slippers and shuffle to the dining car.

"Rise and shine, Rip Van Winkle!" Effie trills when I walk in and pull up a chair to sit down at the large table coated with trays of food.

I grunt in response and start picking at my plate of food, already piled high with bread, noodles, and pieces of pie. I shovel some noodles into my mouth, but then stop eating. I look up and I see the girl staring at me, spoon in hand, halfway to her mouth.

I set my fork down and scratch out, "What's your name, girl?"

She stares back at me, puts her spoon down, folds her cloth napkin on her lap, all prim and proper, and says, "Maximum."

"That's a mouthful." I scoff. I make a grab for my glass of water, but Effie snatches it away before I can drink.

"So, Max," I go ahead but the girl leans forward in her seat to make me stop.

"I prefer you don't call me that, Ignatius." She speaks softly and demurely.

I start to react violently at her, "Don't call me that, girl!" but I am cut off when someone smashes into the dining car, flinging the door open.

"Hey, Eff. It looks like we got us some fresh meat!"

I turn my head towards that voice and myself staring at a girl, who is about 19 or 20, hands on her hips, and smirking at my general direction. She is wearing blood red skinny jeans, a simple white v-neck t-shirt, her dark chocolate hair falling like a waterfall past her back. Her warm blue eyes scan the room and she Cheshire-Cat smiles at Max.

"Well, well, well. Aren't you two just little darlings?" She asks. Then she laughs. Her hand shoots out and grabs a fistful of my hair. She pulls me out of my seat, just by giving a little pull of her wrist. She scans me and then she sets me down.

"I like you. I like how you were violent and harsh and mean to Maximum." She speculates. She assesses Max and tells her to stand. Max does.

"Hmm…your angle should be demure and shy, quiet but no coyness. No one likes that shit." The girl agrees.

"Who're you?" I yell out. "You just can't barge in here and start sizing us up!" I continue to grill her but she slaps me in the face.

"Shut up. Name's Alison DiPescara. I'm your mentor." She scowls at me, but it's hard to tell if she really is mad at me because she is smiling from ear to ear.

"I don't need a mentor! I don't know about Max here, but she needs to be asked to talk!" I lash out on her.

"You wanna know something? You're gonna get slaughtered there. Like a firing squad." She makes a slitting throat motion with her hand that's not gripping Max's dress. Max squirms in her grip and Alison holds her tighter. Alison finally lets go of Max and then lifts up her white shirt to reveal a clean hole in the middle of her strong, four-pack of an abdomen **(A/N: Think hollow hole!)**.

"How the hell is that even possible?" I wonder out loud.

"See this?" She points to the hole, and her hand goes right through it. "I got this baby from a cannon ball. That's what'll happen to you if you don't listen to me."

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><p><strong>How'd you like it? Improvement? More? Ideas?<strong>

**It's not over till I say it is!**

**~A**


	2. Chapter 2

**Me: Guess what, my dears? I updated! Yay! I'm gonna be busy this week thinking of stories to write such as a shoot-'em-up old timey Western featuring the MR charries, a mystery in which Max dies and it's set in the early to late 1890's and everyone is a suspect, many Grimmhime fics, and many more! **

**Grimmjow: Whoop-dee-doo.**

**Me: Come on, Grimmy! Your favorite person in the whole world is gonna in some of them!**

**Grimmjow: Orihime?**

**Me: YEAH! **

**Grimmjow: Now review guys! WE MEAN IT!**

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><p><strong>FANG<strong>

She gives me a small smile, her long blond hair a curtain shielding her away from me, as she is lead to the empty room next to mine by Peacekeepers.

"Bye, Senna." I whisper.

She turns around, a Peacekeeper's hand on the area between her protruding shoulder blades. "Bye, Fang." Her voice is barely a murmur.

Several Peacekeepers push me into my room and shut the door on their way out. I sit in the couch and awkwardly talk to myself, just to get the loneliness out of my system. I shove my hands in my pockets, and search around for my district token, a medical bracelet that has the words, "SMOKER'S LUNGS" engraved on it. When I pull it out, I slide it on. It feels cold on my wrists. A small knock on the door startles me from my thinking. I reluctantly get up and open the door, hesitating.

"Senna?" I whisper, careful not to speak loudly, in case of nearby Peacekeepers. Senna stands awkwardly in the doorway, fidgeting with her white button down shirt's hem. She had pinned her hair back earlier, but her side bangs keep getting in her grey eyes.

"Hi. I snuck out of my room when they left." She gestures towards the empty hallway.

"Get in," I grab the collar of her shirt, my hand brushing against her perfect C-cup breasts, and reel her in, locking the door behind her.

She stumbles in, and falls into me. I wrap an arm around her protectively as she clings to my shirt, and sit her down in the couch.

We don't talk for a minute or two and I start to lose focus. Then she launches her slim frame into my unsuspecting arms. She buries her head into my shoulder and cries. After she cries all her tears, I take her chin and tilt her face towards me.

"It'll be okay. Don't worry." I say.

"24 of us goes in and only one comes out," Senna murmurs. I silence her with a kiss. She tastes like ashes, and I'm pretty sure I do, too. But we don't complain.

She pulls back quickly and clings to my shirt, crying silently.

"This might be our last time together, so let's make it last." I breathe into her hair. She looks up and I lean in to kiss her again. I move my hands from her shoulders down to the top five buttons of her shirt.

"Are you sure?" I ask her. She nods her head. I undo the buttons and lay her down. She pulls my grey t-shirt off on her way and I unbutton the rest of her shirt as we lose ourselves in each other.

I lay with her head on my chest, her own bare chest warm against mine.

"Fang?" She says wistfully.

"Yeah, Sen?" I answer, weaving my fingers through her damp hair.

"I want to give you something. It's in the pockets of my jeans. Can you get it for me?" She requests. I reach overhead and get her pants and hand them to her. She reaches into the left pocket and pulls out a small circular gold pin.

"My mother gave it to me, when I first entered the reaping 5 years ago. She said that as long as I had it, nothing would go wrong." She lays the pin on my chest for me to reach, and she gets up. I pick up the pin, rolling it over in my hands.

It has a small bird in the center of it, shaped into it, held together by the arrow in the bird's mouth. I try to decipher where I have seen this before, but before I can do anything, Senna's already dressed.

She throws me my dark jeans and t-shirt. "Get dressed, we don't have much time." So I do and she smiles at me when I am done.

The door opens almost immediately and we are lead to a train by the Peacekeepers and they tell us to sit in the drawing room car and wait for our mentor to arrive.

**SENNA**

"It's strange that it was you who was picked out of all the boys in district 12." I murmur, playing with the loose string in the worn leather sofa I am seated on.

"What do you mean?" Fang looks up from the lampshade he was fiddling with. The light shifts back to normal once he lets go.

"I mean it could've been Cole." I continue. Cole is my little brother, and today was his first reaping. Like any other sister, I didn't want him to be picked for the reaping.

"The boy with the blue eyes would've have never been picked." Fang tells me, coming over to sit next to me, not across from me now.

"I know, but still." I answer, looking back down at my lap.

"It could have been your older brother, Seth." I say, not sure how to address my feelings.

"If it was, he'd probably try to feel you up." Fang answers with a laugh, in order to cheer me up.

"Could have been your younger brother, Shane. But he'd be scared of me." I laugh a bit, imagining the tiny 14-year-old crouching at the end of the sofa.

"Don't worry, Sen. Cole's safe. And I know we'll be okay. You gave me your mother's pin." He hugs me and kisses the top of my head as the cold memory drifts into me.

It was an unusually warm December morning and no one had expected it. The doctor had told us that the baby wasn't supposed to come until February, so we were still waiting. But my mother started to get her contractions two months early. Nenny came into the world screaming, taking our mother with her. Nenny was so small that the little crib we had reserved for her was a giant sea of blankets and toys.

As Fang and I sit in silence, one of the many doors opens and a harsh-looking man enters.

"I never would've thought that you were Katniss's daughter. If it weren't for permanent scowl you have own your face, I wouldn't have known." He exclaims, chuckling to himself.

"Katniss never told me that she married Peeta and had you." He mutters to himself.

"Who are you?" I ask.

"I'm Haymitch. Your mentor." The man says. "Tell me more 'bout your late mother."

"Uh, okay." I begin nervously. I shoot Fang a nerve shot glance, and he urges me to continue. "Well…my mother married young, at 15. My dad was 16. I came a while later. Um, I got a brother when I was 5 and when I was 12, my baby sister, Nenny was born, but Mom died."

"Wasn't she premature?" Haymitch interrupts me.

"Yeah," I answer, twiddling my thumbs.

"How's Peeta, er, your father?" He questions me.

"Better, but still a bit shell shocked."

"That's what I thought. C'mon, we don't have much time." Haymitch gets to feet and urges Fang and I to get on with the schedule.

"What's going on?" Fang mutters to me as I clutch his elbow. We are lead out of a back door, into a narrow compartment with window seats lining both sides, and finally into a dining car.

The lengthy dining table is covered with trays of food, ranging from seafood to grains. A young woman with wild navy eyes and flowing dark hair stands up from her side of the table and laughs out loud.

"You're finally here. Thought we couldn't start with you guys." She gleams, shaking all of our hands using both of her hands, clasping our own hands hard.

"My name's Alison DiLaurentis, but you can call me Alison." She seems very excited and she can't wait to get started. "I'm your team leader."

"Team…leader?" Fang is puzzled.

"Yes, sir, and those two over there," Miss Alison points at two people, a boy and a girl at opposite ends of the table, "are your teammates."

"You four will work together as one team to win!" Haymitch explains to us. Miss Alison motions the other two stand up.

The boy, who is as old as I am, is taller than Fang and thin, but well built. He scowls at all of us. His shaggy, unkempt blond hair is a crow's nest. The girl is the exact opposite of him, except for her blond hair and brown eyes, which are lighter than his. His eyes are so dark that they are almost black. The girl's more than a foot shorter than him and she's even shorter than me. She's about 5 feet, tops. She's in a plain blue dress, and her long hair is in a herringbone braid, which is neatly laid across her left shoulder.

"Uh, I'm Iggy." The boy gruffly says. I can clearly tell that he smokes because of the horrible cough he emits after speaking.

The girl shoots him a look of apathetic pity, you can already tell that she strongly dislikes him, and in a hushed tone, articulates, "I am Maximum Ride, but I do not prefer you to call me Max."

Fang gives her a shy half-smile, the one he usually reserves for me, and she quickly lowers her eyes.

Maximum wants to say something else, but Iggy intervenes.

"If you call me Ignatius, like Little Miss Victorian here did, I'll chop your fuckin' balls off, even if you're a girl."

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**Love you all, ~A  
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